


On a Cold Winter's Night

by Happy_Haunts



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, High School, M/M, love and other stuff, teenagers being teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:40:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Haunts/pseuds/Happy_Haunts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Frost had spent years watching kids grow up and stop believing. He knew he had to accept it, that he wasn't supposed to get too attached. But how could he forget the one kid in the entire world that still believed? How could he stand by and watch as that kid disappeared a little bit everyday? And one day he realized: he couldn't. This is NOT AU, takes place about seven years after the battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah I was watching this movie and I was inspired to write this mess. Hope you like it, feedback is always appreciated.
> 
> As always, I own nothing. This is for fun and not for profit.

**Prologue**

Many cold winters had passed since that day. The day that his life changed forever, that he froze (literally) in time and the world moved on. Months turned into years which turned into decades, which eventually turned to centuries. Centuries of watching time pass and lives begin and end. Over and over. He could only spend the eternity he had been granted watching. He was a spirit, a ghost. Until the battle, until he had become a Guardian, he wandered aimlessly through people’s lives, wishing he could be a part of it all.

 

He spent a lot of time wondering why children were different, specifically why they were so different from adults. Children could spend hours playing, lost in their own world, without a second thought. They ruled castles, fought dragons, made their dreams come to life and they _believed_. Their excitement was something to watch on Christmas mornings and when they shoved their hands under their pillows and found a shiny new coin in place of a tooth. They couldn’t even contain their glee and they would bounce up and down clapping their little hands and shrieking at the top of their lungs.

 

It was the best part of being a Guardian. It was something they never got tired of after thousands of years. It was what they _lived_ for.

 

But as they years went by it was heartbreaking because, right before their eyes, the excitement grew dim like a fire that was out of things to burn.

 

The sparkle disappeared. The toys and the childish fantasies were replaced by textbooks and rules and belief was replaced by doubt. Which eventually cemented into certainty. This was encouraged by parents who insisted that it was time to “grow up.”

 

He had heard it all before.

 

“You are not a kid anymore. It’s time to grow up. It’s time to open your eyes and see what is _real.”_

“Stop pretending. There is no such thing as imaginary friends. No such thing as the tooth fairy, Santa Claus, as the Easter bunny.”

 

“There is no such thing as magic.”

 

Children stopped doing silly things such as playing out in the snow. They started glancing over their shoulders every time they did something so “babyish,” afraid that someone had seen them. They scoffed at the existence of things like fairies or elves. How had they ever believed such ridiculous stories?

 

For the Guardians, this was nothing new. It was unfortunate, but there were billions of children around the world and as each one grew up another took their place. The Guardians were careful not to get too attached to one child because it was all so temporary and soon the child wouldn’t even be able to see them anymore.

 

Once a child stopped believing, they grew up, and once they reached adulthood it was permanent. They couldn’t see the Guardians anymore. After years and years of watching this happen unfailingly as every child grew up, the Guardians accepted it and focused on bringing as much joy as they could while they could. Even as small children the belief was never unshakeable, if recent events were any indication.

 

Pitch Black had reminded the Guardians that most children can and will stop believing, that if they are not careful, doubt will eventually win.

 

Although he was young compared to the rest of the Guardians (he was only a few centuries old after all-a kid really) he had seen this enough to know that this was the way the world was. Kids couldn’t stay young forever despite what Peter Pan had wanted. Neverland didn’t exist and time only moved forward.

 

It always bothered him more than the others when this happened. He was new to the whole Guardian thing but he wasn’t new to children. He always said he liked them more than adults. They were more fun and they actually enjoyed the occasional snowday. They appreciated his work more than the adults ever did. While adults grumbled about the snow blocking the streets and causing them an endless list of problems, kids made snowballs and snowforts and ice skated and played hockey. They made snowmen and sled down the biggest hills in town. Jack was always there flying or running with them, his staff slung over his shoulder as he watched the kids have a snowball fight with a grin.

 

Sometimes he felt guilty when someone got a bloody nose or a broken leg because of the ice. But the funny thing was, the kids would almost always bounce back. They weren’t scared and in fact, were all too excited to have all their friends sign their cast or to be able to boast over their injuries.

 

One kid, upon being asked by his teacher where he acquired the new scar on his cheek, had grinned and loudly proclaimed that they were his “war injuries.” He went on to talk about the benefits of an ice sword versus a snowball and to talk about the battles he had fought similar to any veteran.

 

“Men all have t’make sacrifices in war, miss. I reckon this was the least I could do. I regret that I have but one life to give for my country.” With this speech he bowed and ran back to his seat.

 

The kid was seven years old, and to this day remembering that particular incident made him smile.

 

He supposed that his job was lesser known but it was more personal. He may not deliver millions of presents in one night, or hide eggs all around the world, but he got to see the effects of his “job” up close. It didn’t really feel like a job because he loved what he did. The name Jack Frost was not as well-known as Santa Claus but it wasn’t that important. When he had been made a Guardian, he was unimpressed. Why would he want to be a Guardian? But that was before the battle, before that one person still believed.

 

After the guardians made Jack one of their own they reminded him never to get too close to one child and to avoid revealing himself to them. With the obvious exception of the battle with Pitch, the belief was supposed to be more or less blind. They had to have faith.

 

He agreed, but he saw no harm in watching certain children grow up from a distance. By certain children, he meant the group of children who fought with him against Pitch. They had already _seen_ him so surely there was no harm in keeping an eye on them?

 

Jack watched over all of them as they grew up but he spent more time on one in particular. The boy who was the only one in the entire world who had still believed, who had refused to give up on them. Who, although he didn’t know it, had saved the Guardians single-handedly. Jamie Bennett was one of the bravest kids Jack had ever seen. Despite everyone else giving up on the Guardians, Jamie had been the single light on that globe that had kept their hope from dying completely.

 

Literally and metaphorically, Jamie was a light in the world. How poetic.

 

Jack Frost watched as they all grew up. He watched them laugh and tell the stories of their victory and of the guardians over and over again. He saw them reenact the battles for parents who had given each other knowing looks, or kids who had watched wide-eyed at their animated storytelling. They had each written stories for their classes and had gotten praise for the inventiveness and creativity of their “story.” They thanked Jack out loud when they got a snowday. Jamie would still talk to Jack every night or ask Sandy out loud for some good dreams. Every night Jack would sit on the windowsill and listen and leave beautiful frost designs on Jamie’s window to be seen in the morning. This was the only sign he was allowed to leave to prove he still existed.

 

He tried carefully to heed the Guardian’s warning. He never revealed himself and never spoke back, even though he desperately wanted to.

 

Jack Frost watched as they all grew up. He watched as they all began to doubt as the dismissal of their story by adults and other children alike began to wear down on them.

 

He watched one by one as they stopped believing until a twelve-year-old Jamie was the only one left.

 

He watched as concerned teachers began to take an interest in his stories, but not for the reasons he liked. He watched as Jamie was told to stop lying, that it wasn’t real, that he needed to grow up. His imagination was running away with him and it was time to stop pretending.

 

He watched as his parents sat down with him and gently explained the difference between dreams and reality. How they were not to be confused. How, as time went on, the gentleness and soft amusement turned into frustration and sternness.

 

“You must stop telling these lies, Jamie. It’s ridiculous. This has gone on long enough. People will start thinking you are lying for attention, they will think that you are crazy, they will think…”

 

All about what people would think. And Jack watched as Jamie turned away from the door in his bed as the sound of footsteps faded away and cried quietly.

 

Jack watched as Jamie turned thirteen and the bullying started. At first it was just teasing, name-calling and the usual fun at his expense. But as they all got older it got worse. It became habit for them to follow him home or behind the school and shove him down. To hit him in the stomach or the face and tease him as he struggled not to cry. He watched as Jamie came up with elaborate excuses to give to his parents when they asked about his black eye or the various cuts and bruises. Jamie learned not to cry, never to show any sort of emotion and the abuse would end quicker. He learned to mask his face to be cold, like ice. And, eventually, after asking for help or proof or a sign or _anything_ and receiving nothing, Jamie learned to stop believing.

 

But the damage had been done. As the years passed Jamie drew in on himself and really, he had no choice. He continued to be ignored (at the best of times) by his classmates and so called friends. He became silent and cold. His parents fretted over the loss of their sweet little boy but sat by wringing their hands, not quite sure what to do. Therapy, counseling, new interests, they tried it all. Nothing seemed to work.

 

And Jack Frost watched as the years passed, unable to do anything but feel his own heart break. He had tried so many times to intervene, only to be stopped by North or one of the other Guardians. After the first time that Jamie had almost seen him, they had kept an eye on Jack Frost. He protested this loudly and angrily. How could they abandon this child, when they claimed it was their job to make children happy?

 

“Jack…” Tooth had said sadly her wings drooping, “You have to understand that Jamie really isn’t young anymore. I have collected his last tooth and he has had his last Easter egg hunt. It is time for him to start growing up. We are not allowed to interfere, ever.”

 

“Someday,” said North, “You will understand when you have lived as long as I. We can not stop this from happening. It is… destiny. Much like you becoming Guardian.”

 

Jack had refused to give up on Jamie, refused to accept it. It just wasn’t in his nature to abandon anyone (it was why he became a Guardian after all). He wasn’t sure why, but the idea of never seeing Jamie again, of watching him get hurt over and over again, was unbearable. It made him feel something dark, somewhere deep inside.

 

No matter how hard he tried he could not help. He watched as even more of Jamie disappeared as the brave little boy he once was went away, piece by piece, bit by bit. Soon there would be nothing left.

 

Jamie was seventeen years old when Jack finally made up his mind. He had a plan. He may not be able to see Jamie and talk to him as Jack Frost, the Guardian, but there was a time, centuries ago when he too had been a normal teenager. If he had done it once, he could do it again. He had to.

 

His heart thudded in his chest. He was going to talk to his Jamie again.

 

He could only hope he wasn’t too late.

 


	2. Murphy's Law

 

_Snow came down from the sky in flurries of white. It gathered on the ground in layers. Jamie wondered if it was as soft as it looked and marveled at how quiet the world was when blanketed in white. He heard a shriek of laughter behind him and turned around to watch his sister disappear into the snow as she was tackled by their dog. He was worried briefly (after all, their dog was twice as big as Sophie!) but she popped up a few seconds later with her hair covered in snow._

_She grinned. “Snowball fight!” She threw a poorly formed fistful of snow at his face. “Sneak attack!”_

_Jamie was stunned only for a moment before he ducked behind a convenient snowbank. “Oh, it is_ on _now!” His little sister had the nerve to stick her tongue out at him and then look surprised when she got a face full of snow._

_After a few minutes of all out war, Jamie bent behind his “fort” to restock his weapons arsenal. He was just finishing when he felt a snowball hit the back of his head and drip freezing slush down the back of his jacket._

_“Sophie!” he whined._

_“What?” She said, innocently._

_“What was that for? It was supposed to be a ceasefire you little…” Jamie looked around. “Hey wait, where did you go?”_

_“Over here!” She peeked her face over the top of her pitiful snowfort._

_“Wait a second how did you get over there so fast?”_

_She frowned. “What are you talking about, silly?”_

_Jamie swiveled around and scanned the trees behind him. He was about to dismiss the whole thing when he heard a very familiar laugh coming from the street._

_A figure was sitting on top of the lamppost. Jamie stared, a name forming on his lips…_

“Jamie? Are you up? Please don’t tell me you slept through your alarm again.” Jamie’s mother pursed her lips and checked her watch. She expected the stony silence through the door whether Jamie was asleep or awake, so she knocked twice before pushing open the door. She strode towards the windows and threw open the blinds so that the weak winter sunlight streamed into the dark room.

 

She let out an exaggerated motherly sigh when she saw the state of Jamie’s room. She walked around picking up stray bits of trash and shoving stray books and papers back on to his desk. Now it was time to address the lump of blankets that her teenage son had nested himself in. The top of his head was showing and dark strands of hair poked out of the blankets. She walked over and shook his shoulder.

 

“Jamie. Come on, you can’t be late for school again. You can’t afford to miss any more days moping in your room, blasting music that makes the dog hide under the couch cushions and lowers the morale of the whole neighborhood.”

 

Jamie did snort at this, a sound that was muffled by his impressive pile of blankets. His mother did tend to stretch the truth, although it was all too close to his plans for the day.

 

At the sound, his mother nodded. “So you are awake. Good! Then you should have no problem getting ready in the next ten minutes. Remember to dress warm and to try to stay out of trouble, please?”

 

Stay out of trouble. _As if. Trouble always finds me no matter how many days I skip. And trouble has a name._

After waiting (rather pointlessly) for her son to respond, Mrs. Bennett exited the room, shutting the door gently behind her.

 

Jamie waited a minute or two before sitting up with a groan and running a hand through his hair. He pulled on jeans and grabbed a black t-shirt off the floor. He dug around for a few minutes on the floor until he pulled out his I-pod and shoved it in his front pocket. After sticking a toothbrush in his mouth he started shoving textbooks back into his backpack and pulled on shoes and a hoodie. Rinse, spit. Same old routine day after day.

 

He thumped down the stairs and waited by the front door. After a minute or two his sister barreled out of the kitchen and almost knocked him over. She may be little, but the extra energy she always had on reserve more than made up for it.

 

“Whoa, Sophie you know the door is harder than it looks right?”

 

She giggled. “I’ve been watching TV, _James_ and I’ll have you know that I am now a black belt in karate. Doors stand no chance in the face of my roundhouse kick!” She punctuated these last few words with a few kicks at Jamie’s foot.

 

“Well, while that’s all very impressive what will we do without a front door? What will protect us from neighbor snowball attacks?”

 

“Don’t be ri-di-cu-lous,” she huffed, “I would protect you, of course, with my karate skills.”

 

“Of course. But what will I do when you turn into a popsicle?”

 

She thought for a second and then frowned. “I would bring lots of hats and mittens to keep me warm.” She said this indignantly, as if Jamie had somehow insulted her intelligence. She held something out to her brother, the perceived insult easily forgotten. “I made you a poptart. Strawberry flavor.”

 

“Nothing too fancy. I like it.” He gave her a small smile and plucked it out of her hand. “Want half?”

 

She jumped up and down. “Yes, please.”

 

After walking Sophie to the elementary school, Jamie trudged the rest of the way to the high school. As the brick and cement building came into view, Jamie pulled out his headphones and stuck them into his ears. Shoving his hands into his jean pockets he walked through the front doors, up the stairs, and down the halls until he reached his first period class. English. He scowled when he saw that his regular seat in the back corner by the bookshelf was taken, and moved to his backup seat by the window. From here he could see over the football field, lumps of unmelted snow creating a patchwork of brown and white.

 

At least he could experience a change of scenery from this spot.

 

Jamie rested his head on the heel of his hand and picked at the flaking corner of the desk while he waited for class to start. The rest of the class was sitting on desks and walking around the room chatting and teasing each other. No one noticed his arrival.

 

It was a good day so far. Maybe he would be able to listen to his mother for once and stay out of trouble.

 

The bell rang and everyone scuffled around each other to find their respective desks and sit down as the teacher strode through the door, coffee in one hand, thick book in the other. He motioned for the class to sit down before taking a seat in the desk chair up front. After waiting for the announcements to conclude, he cleared his throat.

 

“Good morning, everyone. I hope you had a good weekend…”

 

Jamie stopped paying attention at that point and his mind drifted away. He looked out at the football field and prepared himself for a mind numbing day of school. He supposed it was better than the alternative. Days filled with drama never ended well for him. He was easy to blame considering his “history.”

 

Inwardly, he scoffed at the thought. What a joke.

 

Meanwhile, the teacher had finished the mindless pleasantries and instructed the class to take out their textbooks. He reached behind him and picked up a stack of paperbacks and handed them to the person in front of him.

 

“Alright everyone, so this week we will…”

 

Once again Jamie’s mind drifted. He was disinterested and tired _. Besides, he talks way too much anyway…_

Suddenly, the door opened with a bang and a blast of freezing cold air, jerking Jamie out his disjointed thoughts. He looked up, annoyed at whoever had interrupted his daydreaming. And stared.

 

Standing in the doorway was one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. A boy that looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, he was panting and flushed. He must have run the whole way here and Jamie couldn’t help but smirk.

 

The boy had on jeans and a light blue hoodie. The clothes were unremarkable and normally Jamie would have long dismissed this interruption had it not been for his messy snow-white hair. There was something oddly familiar about that hair and Jamie couldn’t do anything but stare and ask himself just where this boy had come from.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder how many teenage boys had hair like that anyways. In such a small town it was hard to believe that he had never seen this boy before.

 

Jamie watched as the stranger’s eyes scanned the room before suddenly landing on him. For a second, Jamie panicked, knowing that he had been caught staring. Instead of immediately looking down, the stranger refused to break eye contact. Was it his imagination or was there some sort of unusual intensity in that stare? After a few seconds, the white-haired boy broke the eye contact and Jamie looked down, cheeks heating slightly.

 

Maybe he was catching something. Jamie felt hot all over like he had a fever. Despite this, the teenager shivered and wished he had listened to his mother. He could swear the temperature had dropped ten or twenty degrees.

 

The teacher cleared his throat. “Ah, you must be the new student. Jeff? John?”

 

“Name’s Jack.” He stuck out his hand and grinned.

 

 _Way too cheerful. This guy’s going to get eaten alive._ Jamie couldn’t stop the small twisted smile from making its way on to his face.

 

Jack. As if this wasn’t bad enough. Like that name didn’t bring unpleasant memories rushing back and a bitter taste in the back of his throat. He had never been one of those people who thought the world was “out to get him” but this proved it. The universe had a rather personal vendetta against a one Mr. Jamie Bennett. The teacher shook the new boy’s hand, looking bemused. “Alright well if you’ll take a seat…” He gestured to an empty desk close to the door.

 

“Sure.” With another ridiculous smile he sat on top of the desk, cross-legged.

 

Always smiling.

 

“In the chair, if you please.”

 

The stranger (Jack, he supposed) took a seat and Jamie couldn’t help but study him out of the corner of his eye, with the pretense of staring off into space.

 

He really did have some sort of ethereal beauty. With the white hair and unusually pale skin he could have been some sort of winter prince. After a minute or two of this, Jamie had worked up the courage to stare directly at the teenager. Of course, this was the the exact time he decided to glance in his direction and once again, their eyes met.

 

This time it was less intense and it lasted only for a second before the white haired boy grinned again and broke the eye contact. Jamie didn’t smile back. He couldn’t help it; something about this boy kept drawing him in like some sort of fucked up magnet, irritating and enthralling him simultaneously. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Who had the right to be that cheerful in the face of a roomful of angry, apathetic teenagers?

 

He also couldn’t help the fact that his heart did something funny at the sight of that stupid grin. That was purely coincidental, of course. He really should go to the doctor.

 

A book landed on the floor beside his desk, startling him out of his brooding. He really couldn’t catch a break today. He reached down to pick up the book, ignoring the snickers and whispers he heard behind him. When he flipped the book over and read the title his stomach dropped.

 

_Shit. Why today of all days?_

He glanced around the classroom quickly and noticed all the smirks and whispers. People elbowing each other and nodding in his direction, giggling behind their hands. The not so subtle pointing. Inwardly he sighed and almost walked out. But no, that would be too dramatic, too much to deal with later, so he did what he did best and ignored the rising tide of hilarity.

 

The teacher finally took notice of what was going on and asked irately, “Does anyone want to tell me just what’s so funny?”

 

A boy in the back of the room (his name started with an “L”-possibly) snorted and said, “Well we just thought we’d let you know since we’re doing a unit on,” Here he looked down and read from the cover,” ‘The history of fairytales in literature’ and all, that we have an expert in the room!” He swept an arm in a grand motion to the amusement of the class. “Jamie here can tell us all about that. In fact, he has first hand experience, don’t you James?”

 

Another voice called out, “Better yet, call the loony bin where he spends his weekends and ask his therapist. I’ll bet she can give us a lot of useful information on _fairytales_.”

 

Yet another voice rasped, “Don’t bother. I heard she killed herself and blamed him in the note.” The last few words were said in a stage whisper. “Said she simply couldn’t _take_ it anymore.”

 

Jamie refused to acknowledge what was happening and instead stared at his desk in silence, willing the attention somewhere else. He didn’t want to show everyone how much this still dug at him, the fact that he had spent years trying to convince people he had fought in a magical battle.

 

While Jamie was staring at his desk, he didn’t notice Jack’s face which was frozen in a look of horror, his knuckles whitening around the edge of the desk.

 

Another boy with short blond hair stood up and mimed fighting with a sword. “’Twas a great battle, the battle against the mighty Pitch Black! But there was one problem: though he may have won the battle with his imaginary friends he lost something much more important… his sanity!” The boy cackled.

 

“Yeah Jamie, tell us all about your friends, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.”

 

Someone muttered, “As if. Even his imaginary friends can’t stand him.”

 

“Don’t forget the tooth fairy!” Shrieked in between gasps of laughter. A girl this time.

 

“Oh yeah,” the boy smirked, “Where is the Tooth Fairy now? Is she your imaginary girlfriend?” Just as he finished the taunting question, his legs shot out from under him and he slipped, falling onto his back. Below his feet, the floor glinted oddly in the light.

 

Jamie didn’t question the sudden slip. He was just glad to have the attention diverted off of him and on to something else before he did something dangerous like punched someone. Or cried. He was so relieved, in fact, that he didn’t notice the new boy’s eyes fixed murderously at the fallen student with an odd sort of twinkle in his eye. The teacher rushed over and helped the student off the ground. Apparently he had fallen so hard, that he bit his tongue and blood trickled down his chin. Jamie watched, rather morbidly, as the blood dripped on to the speckled linoleum floor and as the boy sneered at whoever dared to laugh, gingerly picking himself up off the ground.

 

There was a few moments of silence before the teacher cleared his throat and gestured towards the door. “Anderson, go and get yourself cleaned up.” After the blond left to go to the nurse, the teacher cleared his throat.

 

“Alright, alright settle down people. I won’t stand for any more of this nonsense in my classroom. Everyone is to be _quiet_ for the rest of the period. We will have a discussion next class so be sure to read the first three chapters read by tomorrow. For the rest of the class we will have _silent_ reading.” He glared at everyone for good measure.

 

_Great. Where the fuck was that two minutes ago? Even the teachers think I’m crazy._

 

Jamie silently picked up his book and opened to the first page, pretending to read. In reality he sat and ignored the anger smoldering in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t get into anymore fights. He was already risking expulsion as it was. He ignored the prickling feeling that someone was watching him with an intense gaze, gauging his reaction, with way too much concern.

He kept his face impassive and for the rest of the class focused on the same paragraph, reading it over and over again.

 

He didn’t look up once.


	3. Frostbite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's plan to infiltrate a high school and approach an angry teenager does not go well. No surprise there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relatively long chapter. I would love and welcome comments or suggestions! As always thanks for reading, and for any kudos and previous comments, they make my day :D

The end of the week found Jack Frost sitting among the trees, deep in thought. He had discovered this clearing years ago when exploring the woods that bordered the town and it was somewhere to go when he needed to think.

 

Although Jack had at one time been a teenager (and he would always be frozen in time as one regardless) he didn’t really remember all that much about it. It was over 300 years ago, besides, so it wasn’t like whatever he remembered was actually relevant to the situation he had gotten himself into. He had just never realized how cruel teenagers and people in general were. He’s not completely unaware, obviously, but for most of his existence Jack  had preferred the company of kids over anyone else. He spent most of his time observing and interacting with them, partly because it was something that would be in his job description, if he in fact had one.

 

As a result, Jack had never really understood adults. Kids he understood. It wasn’t that they were simple but they were open and honest and most children just didn’t have it in them to be intentionally mean. There wasn’t really much to fight about anyways, besides small fights over toys or being left behind. Forgiveness was given readily and there was no sort of ulterior motive or expectations or anything as complicated as that.

 

Jack had watched and observed all week and he had come to the conclusion that teenagers liked to remember the strangest things and hold on to them for future torment as long as possible. Especially when it came to Jamie.

 

Jack suspected that if he in fact actually had many memories of his, quote, “mortal” life he probably would have something similar to compare it to. It figures he would be the only Guardian to have only the foggiest memories of his life. Maybe one day they would come flooding back, but for now he was laughably unprepared.

 

He poked moodily at an intrepid little sapling that had poked itself out of the blanket of snow and watched as it’s branches were covered in a layer of ice that gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. He exhaled loudly which practically echoed in the empty clearing.

 

He needed to think and calm down but it was hard. Jack hadn’t realized what exactly he had been getting himself in to but it was clear that he was probably already in too deep. Everything that he had seen, that had happened only served to make it worse.

 

The snow had muffled all the usual noise so it was in near complete silence that he sat, knees bent and recalled the week’s events.

 

[[[[[

 

Jack had walked into the school building on Monday morning not knowing quite what to expect. He had watched from a distance as the school opened and students started trickling in. As the morning went on more and more people arrived and walked through the school’s main entrance or sat in the parking lot and waited for their friends. Eventually when it seemed the bulk of people were going inside, Jack joined the crowd. He had walked to the administration office using the signs along the wall for assistance and came out a few minutes later, newly printed schedule in hand.

 

At first, Jack had no idea how he was supposed to be a high school student because although he didn’t know much about the whole process he was sure that you needed some kind of papers or documents to join a new school. That was pretty much the extent of his knowledge and he had no idea what he needed. He was close to giving in and asking someone for help when he remembered something that the tooth fairy had told him a few years back.

 

_“So what happens if one of you gets seen?”_

_She had frowned slightly. “What do you mean, Jack?”_

_“Well no one ever sees Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy right? So what are you guys supposed to do if one of the kids… I don’t know, wakes up or catches one of your fairies?” He scratched his head. “I mean, not all of them are as young as Jamie’s little sister and I doubt Sandy always goes around knocking kids out every single time something like that happens.”_

_“Oh, I see! Well I don’t think anyone has told you this yet, but when you become a Guardian you get magic and certain abilities of course but you also are able to use your magic to, well, to convince people of certain things.”_

_Now it was his turn to frown. “What does that mean, exactly?”_

_Seeing the expression on his face she said quickly, “It’s not very strong or useful in emergency situations but essentially you can sort of persuade people to believe certain truths. It doesn’t always work and it’s most definitely not foolproof but it can help when you are seen accidently or something happens that cannot normally be explained.”_

_He had opened his mouth to ask her another question when a few fairies came flitting up to her like little hummingbirds and she was whisked away. Jack had been left to wonder at her words._

At this memory, Jack winced slightly. He knew that the way he had used this magical skill was not at all what it was meant for and he knew that he was in fact breaking the rules just by revealing himself to adults. Even kids weren’t supposed to see him and he knew he was breaking way too many Guardian rules. He ignored the uneasy feeling that was building in his stomach. What he was doing was more important.

 

He had stood in the hallway outside the administration office trying to decipher the schedule that the secretary had handed him. She had asked if he had needed help but he had laughed nervously and told her he would be fine. No need to draw any more attention to his confusion. Now he was regretting that decision, especially as the bell rang and he had no idea where his class was.

 

Fifteen minutes of running later he was able to locate the classroom on the second floor. He stared at the unremarkable door and hesitated. He had watched Jamie for years but always from a distance. Once he opened the door there was no going back. Once again he squashed all his many misgivings. What was the worst that could happen?

 

This question unwittingly conjured about a thousand different scenarios in Jack’s head but his hand was already on the door handle and he tumbled into the room.

 

Originally, this scene had gone a lot better in his head.

 

His eyes swept over the room. A few people had snapped their heads up from their desk and some were blinking sleepily, confused by the sudden spike in noise.  A few were giggling or staring, not even bothering to hide their curiosity. Most of them quickly returned to what they had been doing after dismissing the interruption, absorbed in their own group of friends.

 

One person’s eyes however had not left him since he walked in the room.

 

_Jamie._

 

It was actually a bit unnerving. While most of the room had seem somewhat stunned by his entrance, Jamie just looked unimpressed. The only change is his expression was his eyes widening slightly. Jack avoided his eyes for as long as he could. He knew what he would see, the lack of recognition, his face no longer lighting up with a grin when he saw him. Jack couldn’t bear to confirm what he already knew: Jamie didn’t remember him, had tried hard to forget and, eventually, had succeeded.

 

When he finally met his stare, Jamie seemed to remember himself and Jack saw his cheeks color. For a few seconds Jack could feel himself mirroring the action which was pretty impressive, considering he was a winter spirit.

 

After settling himself in, he realized all at once that he had no plan. At all. What did he think was going to happen, he would come in and introduce himself to Jamie as the figment of his imagination that had turned him into a social outcast, and then they would all get together and go sledding? He cringed mentally at how _that_ would go.

 

What would happen if Jamie actually remembered him on his own? How would he explain that he had basically ignored Jamie for seven years when he really needed him? How would he explain that he had been there, watching as he was teased and beaten and otherwise ignored by everyone including the people who were supposed to love him the most? He felt his mood darken. He didn’t bother to pay attention to whatever had been dropped on his desk.

 

He was pulled out of his thoughts (which were starting to go in circles and repeat themselves mercilessly) by a sudden change of mood in the room.  He glanced around and saw people poking each other and whispering and making little snorts of laughter behind their hands. He followed the direction of the hilarity to the corner where Jamie sat, his back to the rest of the class.  What happened next made Jack furious.

 

He saw Jamie staring at his desk, his whole form tense, his shoulders hunched.  Jack watched as he ignored the snickers and the stares, the insults. The only indication at all that he was even listening was the subtle tightening of his shoulders as he glared at his desk. Jack knew what the others wanted was just what Jamie was trying to avoid giving them: a reaction.

 

Jack felt an increasing sense of anger, second only to the intense guilt and concern that threatened to choke him. What made him feel the worst, what really hit him hard, was when it was clear that Jamie was used to this, like it wasn’t anything new or surprising. Just something that happened, and Jack knew he shut down in order to protect himself. He was simply ignoring it.

 

Jack felt cold on the inside, once again an unfamiliar feeling. He should have stopped this sooner-  he should have said something, no matter what the Guardians said.

 

A few years ago, Jack was forbidden by the Guardians to see Jamie or even to be in the same place as him after they had caught him spending too much time checking up on him. They told him it was for the best, and for a little while he believed them. Eventually, though, North called off the team of elves he had keeping an eye on him around the clock and Jack felt anxious. He hadn’t seen Jamie for at least two months and it was making him jittery. Even though he wasn’t being watched every hour of every day, it was still to early to try and sneak back to check up on Jamie. He had recalled how kids’ memories were stored in their teeth, usually big memories that were important or milestones in a kid’s life. Something that shaped who they were.

 

There was no way they were going to give them the box, so he did the only thing he could think of. He stole it.  Surprisingly easy, considering how valuable they were to the Guardians. He supposed it also helped to have baby tooth as a friend.

 

Once he was positive he had the correct box he had asked baby tooth to open it for him. She had chattered nervously and clutched her hands to her chest but he had begged her until she sighed and opened it for him, scolding him as she did so. The box glowed gold and the world melted away as he found himself in the middle of Jamie’s memories. Just like the last time.

 

He should have done something when he saw that first memory. He almost did. What stopped him?

 

_4 Years Earlier_

_Jamie walked down the hallway slowly, dragging his feet. He didn’t like going to the principle’s office. He had been very nice and had even let Jamie have a snack size bag of skittles from his secret candy stash, but he knew that his parents would be upset. He chewed on the candy thoughtfully as he walked. He still didn’t really understand what he had done wrong, but that the teacher had told the principle things and that she had given him Jamie’s English essay (he could recognize his handwriting on the desk)._

_He had thought it was a good essay and his teacher had agreed, telling him how good of a storyteller he was and how creative he had to be to come up with such an interesting fiction. He had puffed up with pride until he registered what she had said. “Storytelling?”_

_She had asked him to present it to the class and it was there that he decided to clear up the misunderstanding. He had only read half of it before she made him sit down! It was pretty annoying that she wouldn’t let him finish his story and she made him go to the office. He crossed his arms. Well, it wasn’t like he had actually done anything wrong, maybe his teacher had it out for him. How was he supposed to know?_

_He headed for the doors that led him outside to the recess area. On one side of the field was a square of black asphalt surrounded by a chain link fence that had a basketball court and a few other things like foursquare and hopscotch markings. He smiled. His friends were usually outside around this time and he felt his mood lift when he spotted them on the far side of the fence with jump ropes and a red rubber ball that they were bouncing back and forth. He picked up his pace, walking a little faster. As soon as his tennis shoes were on the court he felt something fly by his side and heard the fence rattle behind him. He saw a basketball roll by his feet._

_He looked up, startled. That was really close to hitting him. A group of boys were all standing under the basketball hoop, snickering. Some were his age but a few of them might have been a grade or two older. A boy with short blond hair was standing in front of the group with a grin. He picked up the ball and said:_

_“Better watch out, weirdo. For someone who tells everyone he fought magical fairytales, you have really slow reflexes”_

_Jamie froze. Had he heard him right? He barely knew this kid outside of class, so why would he say something like that to him? Maybe it was a joke._

_A boy behind the first snorted. “Apparently that’s not the only thing that’s slow. Not the brightest is he?”_

_The blond laughed. “Obviously. Didn’t you hear his story? He actually is stupid enough to still believe in Santa Claus. Little liar is tellin’ everyone that he saved everyone with magic. Like he’s some kind of hero or something.”  Jamie said nothing. He directed his next question at Jamie. “What is_ wrong _with you? I mean, besides the obvious, there has to be something wrong with your brain like some kind of disease or somethin’.” When he still didn’t get a response he snapped, “Hey! I know you can hear me, you little freak. You gonna answer or what?”_

_Jamie’s eyes stung. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t get his feet to move. In an attempt to get some help he glanced at his friends who were still absorbed in their games and obviously not paying any attention to Jamie’s plight. He bit his lip and said quietly, “I am not a freak.” His voice broke slightly on the last word._

_The leader of the group turned slightly to look back at his friends. “Did you hear that, guys?” He looked at Jamie.” I think he might cry” This was met by a few laughs and jeers. He gave a feral sort of grin._

_The next thing Jamie knew he was sprawled out on the ground, totally unprepared for something that slammed into his chest. Hard.  Spots danced in his vision and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The air had been completely knocked out of him and he gasped trying to regain his breath for a few seconds, too stunned to cry or do anything but lay there._

_By the time he had regained enough breath to feel the full force of his injuries, the group had gathered around him in a little semicircle, laughing._

_“Some hero. Even basketballs can take him down.”_

_“It’s almost sad really, you’d think he’d have learned…”_

_“Yeah well s’not like he had anyone to teach him.”_

_Jamie felt his eyes and nose sting but still he refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry. He was scared though, more than he wanted to admit and everything really hurt. They didn’t look like they were going to leave him alone anytime soon and were rather enjoying having something new to play with. Wait. Surely his friends had noticed by now!_

_He turned his head carefully to the right and saw through a few sets of legs that his friends had definitely noticed. He saw them all silent and still watching, the toys and games abandoned. He stared at them, his cheek pressed to the cool asphalt._

_Why weren’t they doing anything??_

_A sudden kick to his ribcage. “Hey! Pay attention. Don’t you want us to figure out what’s wrong with you? We may need to get some serious help.”_

_“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Jamie said this softly, wincing when it hurt to breathe. “Didn’ do anything…”_

_This must have been the wrong thing to say because he saw the anger flash in the boy’s eyes._

_“Stand up.” When Jamie didn’t respond he nodded to his friends on either side. “Come on, get him up.”_

_Rather reluctantly, two of them grabbed him underneath his arms and pulled him until he was more or less standing up, his back to the fence. Distantly he registered that a small crowd had started to gather on the court, not even bothering to pretend they were doing anything but watching and waiting for what they were going to do. The air was practically humming with anticipation and it was very quiet. He kept his gaze on the ground._

_He had been bothered before, teased and made fun of by a few kids who thought it was funny that some kid believed in things he should have outgrown years ago. They called him a liar, crazy, said he was having hallucinations, a weirdo and a loser. Up until this point it was more in passing and other than a few small incidents, Jamie hadn’t even noticed it. He remembered when people would tell him to laugh it off and make fun of those kids right back. Jamie had been confident, and for a while it didn’t bother him. It was always the same five or six kids in his class who got bored and found someone easy to bug during the day. They weren’t people who mattered._

_But this was different. Everyone was looking at him, watching but not bothering to help. It was more than a few kids now._

_“You’re a danger to normal people, kid. It was cute three years ago but it’s time for a little reality check, ya know? You think you’re so smart, that magic is real and Santa Claus will save you or whatever.” His voice took on a malicious edge. “Someone should remind you what is real, that we don’ mess around here.” At this there was a murmur of assent from the growing crowd and some people shouted out encouragement or agreement. They wanted to see something happen. They were bored._

_“So maybe after today, you’ll learn to shut up when people tell you to. Stop pretending to be somethin’ that you’re not, you little freak. Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie?”_

_Jamie suddenly felt a burst of hot anger and humiliation. The boy had hit a nerve so sharply that Jamie was completely unprepared for his own reaction. He snapped his head up. There was no stopping what happened next and the regret he felt after the words left his mouth was instant and complete._

_“Shut_ up! _You don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re a moron and I’ll bet that without your friends here you wouldn’t even be able to take on someone half your size! You’re a coward and no one likes you, not even your stupid friends! At least I have people who actually care about me, you have no one! You’re the liar!” Once he was finished, the sudden spike of adrenalin faded and all that was left was the icy feeling of panic when he saw the twisted grin on the face of his captor._

_There was a pause, an unbearable silence. It was broken by the sound of knuckles connecting with bone, a sickening crunch There was a surge of noise from the audience, yells and cheers and chants._

_Jamie couldn’t hold back the noise he made when he felt his nose break. It hurt so much. It felt like his face was on fire and a few seconds later he couldn’t breathe as his nose filled up with blood. He felt it stream down his face and fill his mouth with a thick metallic taste as he gasped for breath. He was a barely given any time before he felt another punch right in his stomach and he cried out. It was in the exact same place that the ball had hit earlier and the pain was almost overwhelming. He desperately didn’t want to cry, but he felt silent tears trickle down his cheeks._

_He heard laughter._

_“Aw I think he’s crying.” He fisted his hand in Jamie’s hair and yanked his head back. “Yeah, yeah look at him. Pathetic.”_

_A boy standing next to him cleared his throat. “Hey Connor, don’t you think that’s enough? You’re gonna get us in a lot of trouble.”_

_Connor snorted. “Relax genius. I don’t see anyone comin’. Teacher’s gone somewhere.” No sooner had he said this when the crowd fell silent. Jamie saw someone with dark hair and glasses walking towards and the crowd of students parted to let him through. He was tall and looked older, maybe two or three years older than Jamie. Besides his height, he wasn’t particularly large or intimidating, but he had a certain feeling about him that commanded attention and respect. Everyone eyes followed him as he approached Connor who looked nervous._

_“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The stranger’s voice was full of contempt but his face betrayed no emotion._

_Connor swallowed. “What does it look like I’m doing? Just makin’ a point, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”_

_The dark haired teenager didn’t blink. “I think you’ve made it. Why don’t you go do something else before you get yourself into more trouble than you can handle?” He said this quietly, but there was no mistaking the warning in his voice._

_Connor glanced around at the crowd and then his eyes flicked back to Jamie. “I think I’m doin’ just fine. Mind your own business.” Just to make his point, he tightened his grip in Jamie’s hair and tugged roughly, causing him to let out a little whimper. At this, the older boy’s expression darkened and before Jamie could even register the movement, Connor was splayed out on the ground, his right hand covering his face where blood was already beginning to seep through his fingers._

_The stranger flexed his right hand which was blooming a dark purple and then shoved it in his pocket with a grimace before turning around. People were standing faces frozen in shock._

_“All of you standing there, and no one thought to help? To go get someone, to stop this? You saw someone get their nose broken and you just…. watched.” At least they had the decency to look ashamed._

_“Get the fuck out of here, all of you.” His tone left no room for argument and the majority of people were already feeling more than a little guilty. The mass of people gradually dispersed, some faster than others, and a few cast curious glances back at the scene as they walked away._

_The dark haired teen walked over to Jamie who had been watching with a mixture of relief and disbelief. Just who was this person? It was ridiculous, someone he didn’t even know actually bothering to defend him like a knight in shining armor or something equally laughable._

_He studied Jamie intently, ignoring Connor’s muttered comments from the ground behind him. Jamie wiped some of the blood off his face with the back of his hand and stared back._

_“You ok?” Jamie shrugged and then winced when he tried to stand up to his full height. His ribs, his stomach and nose all hurt like crazy and he knew there was going to be a huge bruise. Tears were still trickling down his face, despite all efforts to stop. The crying was only making the pain in his nose worse._

_“Yeah, I thought so. Come on, let’s go to the nurse.” He reached out, presumably to help Jamie to his feet, but Jamie scowled and pulled back despite his entire body protesting the movement._

_“Look,” Jamie said, his voice rough and shaky, “Thanks for helping me I really appreciate it and all that, but I don’t need someone to babysit me, now. I can get there on my own and everything.” This statement was weakened somewhat by his obvious pain and the fact that he hadn’t moved in three minute, but Jamie didn’t want someone taking pity on him and walking him places, like a lost kindergartner._

_The stranger looked mildly amused underneath all his concern. He pushed his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. “Nah, it’s not like that. You’d let your friends take you, yeah?”_

_“We’re not friends.” Jamie sounded like he had a cold. The remark stung more than he cared to admit, likely because he didn’t think he had any friends at the moment._

_“Well, I think we’re acquaintances, which I’m told is the first step.” He smiled and moved again to wrap his arm around Jamie, who gave in. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere otherwise._

_“I’m glad this is all so funny to you.” They started to slowly walk towards the school building._

_“I don’t think this is funny in the slightest.” His voice was quiet. There was a few seconds of silence._

_Jamie suddenly felt awkward and a need to break the silence, despite it hurting a little to talk. “Well, don’t you think I should know your name then?”_

_“Sure. My name’s Alexander but everyone calls me Alex.”_

_“Alex?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Thanks.”_

 

The sudden flashback to this particular memory caused Jack’s emotions to run wild and the boy that had stood up slipped on a patch of ice that had sprung up out of nowhere and fell. Jack felt momentarily guilty, but he glanced over at Jamie and he had visibly relaxed as the attention was directed off of him.

 

It could have been worse. At that moment, he was thinking that that boy had gotten off easy. He felt some sort of dark satisfaction at causing him pain. It was a brief feeling and he didn’t really feel like dwelling on it.

 

Jack had sat there for the next hour, thinking. The bell rang harshly, signaling the end of the class period and there was a flurry of movement as everyone shoved everything into their bags and walked out, the halls filling with the sound of lockers slamming and people shuffling to their next class. Jamie waited until everyone had filed out before attempting to stalk out of class as fast as possible his eyes staring straight ahead and Jack let his eyes track the movement before following him out.

 

Jack wasn’t stupid enough to try and actually talk to Jamie, at least not yet. He needed some time to...regroup. Or something like that. Whatever he had expected it had not been this, but he should have known.

 

 

{{{{{

 

Over the next few days Jack discovered that Jamie had a routine. He spent his class periods in the same few seats, ignoring the same people. Jack had made it so he had all but one of his classes with Jamie (he felt like all might be a little bit overkill). In each class on the first day he was acknowledged by the teachers as a new student and made to introduce himself in some way. After the first class, Jamie pointedly ignored Jack’s continued appearances in his classes, although he thought he saw Jamie scoff at Jack’s clumsy attempts to make up a plausible backstory. Canada seemed like a safe bet, plus it was one of his favorite countries. Practically year round winter and while rather despised by adults, kids still appreciated snow days now and then up north.

 

Every day at lunch Jamie sat outside against the brick wall of the building his backpack up against the wall next to him, knees bent, and earbuds in. It was shockingly cold outside and sometimes little flurries of snow fell from the sky. As a result, the group of people that ventured outdoors was small and scattered, making it a perfect place for solitude. Most days, the winter weather bleached all the color out of the world and Jack had never felt so depressed about the winter season before.

 

Jamie always had a book of some kind, and he usually spent his lunch reading out in the cold. IT was one of those things that struck Jack as melancholy, reminding him of when Jamie used to read the brightly colored pictured books detailing all the great myths and legends. Despite the fact that Jamie clearly wanted to be alone, occasionally a person or two would come sit by him against the wall and Jamie would pull out his earbuds and talk to them for a while before returning to his book. He did have friends, then.

 

On the first day, Jack was already outside, the snow and cold air doing wonders for the tangled thoughts zinging around his head like ribbons. He was lying on his back on one of the benches, watching lone flakes drift gently from the sky. He hadn’t been outside for five minutes when he heard the squeak and subsequent slam of the door and the thump of something being dropped on to the ground. He sat up suddenly, only to meet the cool gaze of Jamie, sitting just a few feet away from him against the wall.

 

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. Jamie smirked and dropped his gaze to rummage in his bag for his notebook and a pen. He was unwinding his headphones from his jacket pocket when he said casually, “You know, you don’t really strike me as the loner type.”

 

For a few seconds Jack tried to work through the surprise that he was being addressed at all, and before he could gather his thoughts Jamie added, “You have no idea the damage you’re doing to your _reputation,”_ He emphasized with thinly veiled contempt, “just by being this close to me anyways.” He said this dryly and without a hint of bitterness, and Jack was momentarily tempted to laugh at the exaggerated expression of horror on his face.

 

Jack swallowed. “I’m not even sure what that means.” Better to stick with the truth. He reached his arm back and scratched the back of his neck nervously out of habit.

 

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.” He had pulled his bag off the dingy concrete and onto his lap and was digging intently for something. After a few seconds he pulled out a small box and something smaller and thinner. He flipped open the top and Jack was shocked to note that it was half full of something he recognized: cigarettes.

 

Jamie tugged one free and tapped one end against the carton before sticking it in between his lips and holding the lighter to the end until it glowed red. He sighed and exhaled a grey cloud into the thin winter air. He seemed amused at the expression on Jack’s face.

 

“Those are supposed to be terrible for your health,” he managed.

 

Jamie examined the burning cigarette in between his fingers. “So the experts say.”

Before Jack could think of a response, he had stuck his earbuds back in his ears and pulled his book onto his lap. And so the conversation was over, then. Jack seriously doubted he would be successful in starting another one and so he had simply watched until the bell rang and the little company they had filed inside. Jamie hadn’t bothered to acknowledge him again after that.

 

The elementary school got out about fifteen minutes after the high school so Jamie would wait out front for his little sister on a bench near the parking lot and she would come running out, her lime green backpack bouncing as she sprinted out of the school. She still had so much energy and joy, Jack noted with a hint of sadness. Not a whole lot had changed with her. The most interesting thing, though, was Jamie’s face when he saw Sophie, his whole expression lighting up with a smile as she ran towards him chattering about one thing or another.

 

That smile… it reminded Jack so much of Jamie seven years ago.

 

Jack couldn’t help but feel a little, well, creepy just lurking in the shadows. He wasn’t visible at the moment to anyone, elementary kids included, but it was getting hard to stay that way. The more people he let see him, the harder it was to just melt back into the air again like he was used to.

 

Eventually he drew the line at following him home. He wanted to, felt an intense feeling to make sure he was home, _safe_ and that both he and Sophie were ok, but knowing that he was more likely to be seen presented a problem. At the end of the week he was frustrated and angry and guilty and he could only use these for excuses as to what happened next.

 

 

{{{{

 

Jack had been walking the halls during the lunch period, looking for something to pass the time. Jamie wasn’t in his usual spot outside and since winter spirits didn’t eat lunch anyways he had to avoid the cafeteria if at all possible until his next class. A lot of the kids skipped lunch anyways so the hallways were by no means empty. He was in the middle of trying to find the school library, when he noticed that there was some sort of commotion coming from the end of the hallway. People were chattering excitedly as they approached the growing crowd around the corner. Curious, Jack followed them feeling a growing sense of dread as he got close.

 

As he got to the edge of the mass of people he _still_ couldn’t see what was going on and while he was not short by any means he still couldn’t see over the tops of everyone’s heads and he was not nearly big enough to successfully shove his way through the crowd.

 

“Hey!” He raised his voice trying to be heard, “What’s going on?” He could barely hear himself over the din but then a girl next to him, glancing down at the phone in her hand said in a bored tone, “I dunno, something to do with Anderson getting himself all worked up again. I swear he just loves to show off doesn’t he?” She hummed to herself and without bothering to wait for a response, sauntered off. Jack was still trying to think why that name sounded familiar. _Anderson…. Wait wasn’t he the boy…_ Suddenly Jack was shoving through the crowd, size be damned, people grumbling as they were jostled aside. Jack felt a jolt when he reached the front and his worst fears were confirmed.

 

Anderson was standing with his back to the crowd holding someone up against the lockers and as he shifted, Jack got a glimpse of Jamie inexplicably smirking with an already darkening bruise on the left side of his face as he was pinned to the lockers by an arm on his chest. At the sight of the bruise, Jack felt a ragged white-hot burst of anger. It was only fueled by the fact that as he glanced around at the group of excited teenagers clamoring for a fight, he noticed that more than half of them were holding up cell phones with their fingers pressed on the record button. It didn’t seem like any of them were attempting to stop it and even those who didn’t seem to enjoy it were still just watching or ignoring it entirely.

 

This scene was all too familiar.

 

“ _Say it again.”_   Anderson growled through gritted teeth.

 

Despite the fact that Anderson’s face was growing increasingly red and it was clear that it would not end well for Jamie either way he just looked vaguely amused, despite his injuries.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said his voice raspy, “You’ll have to be more specific.” He smirked again and leaned his head back against the lockers. “I’m surprised you’d want me to repeat any of that, really… I think it pissed you off the first time. I dunno maybe you just like being close to me. What is it fourth time this year?” At this Anderson’ face took on a sort of purplish quality and he drove his fist into Jamie’s stomach, which made him double over coughing. Jack felt another spike of anger and this time he didn’t bother to control it. Before he knew it he was standing in between Jamie and Anderson, the latter having been shoved out of the way. At this, the noise level climbed impossibly high in the hall.

 

The blond looked momentarily stunned. The look vanished as quickly as it came and was replaced by a triumphant grin.

 

“Guess your boyfriend got a little jealous?” He drawled the words mockingly, lazily, in the manner of a person who knows they have the upper hand.

 

Jamie didn’t reply, still bent over one arm hugging his midsection. Jack a surge of magic chill the air and it took him a few seconds to realize where it had come from. He had a moment of panic and frustration ( _Why_ was his magic suddenly uncontrollable now of all times-were his fingers turning blue?) but he took a breath to steady himself.

 

“I’m not his-“Jack cut himself off at the widening smirk on the larger boy’s face. He cleared his throat and glanced at Jamie who was watching the exchange with narrowed eyes. “Is there a reason you won’t leave him alone? Can you just-stop?” His voice sounded childish even to his own ears and for the hundredth time that week, he regretted that he didn’t understand more about teenagers.

 

Anderson clicked his tongue a few times. “Aww, I knew the loser was pathetic but even his friends won’t admit he’s alive. Jesus, there are times when even I feel bad for you.”

 

Jamie, who Jack had been watching out of the corner of his eye, stiffened at this. The temperature in the room dropped even further. Some of the people standing closest were visibly shivering and even the crowd grew hushed.

 

“What did you call him?” Slowly. Quietly.

 

Anderson moved even closer, until he was right in Jack’s face, their noses practically touching. “I called him a loser. You know… pathetic, weirdo, waste of space.” He’s still wearing that infuriating smirk. “Because that’s what he is. A _freak.”_

Jack didn’t know how to justify his next actions. Maybe it was because he’s frustrated, because he didn’t know what to do, because he has no plan. Maybe it has to do with the magic underneath his skin, a sensation so cold its burning him from the inside out. Maybe it has to do with his desperation, the fierce need to protect Jamie, despite the fact that Jamie wants nothing more than to be left alone. But most likely it is because that word conjures up memories so unpleasant, memories that aren’t even his own, and he’s drowning in guilt and misplaced anger.

 

All he knows, is that one moment both of them were standing upright and the next both were sprawled across the linoleum floor, Jack on top of the bigger boy, his eye already beginning to swell where Jack must have hit him and his lips are blue and Jack noticed from where he held the other boy’s wrists that his fingers were purple and black. _Frostbite._

Jack would like to pretend he would have stopped even if he hadn’t been roughly yanked up and off the (now) defenseless teenager whimpering on the floor by who he guessed was a teacher. He wanted to pretend that he hadn’t seen the faces of the silent group of students behind him, a mixture of disgust and shock. A second teacher rushed in to help Anderson off the ground, glaring at Jack over her shoulder as she does so. The first teacher, the one who pulled him off Anderson, had his back to him, yelling at the crowd to leave unless they wanted to get in trouble as well.

 

Jack had been staring at the floor up to this point, not trusting himself to look up. He does, eventually, and finds himself meeting Jamie’s stare and feels an unpleasant falling sensation in his stomach. He doesn’t know what he expected but all he sees in Jamie’s face is pure resentment and anger.

 

Jack’s spent years playing with cold and frost, manipulating the smallest winds into the fiercest blizzards and never been the slightest bit affected by the cold, never really remembered what it was like to be cold, but now he does. Because in that moment, all he felt was numb.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so the first time I wrote this chapter about a week after I posted the last one I got frustrated and deleted it. I'm still unsure about this chapter as it is very much a setting up chapter but hopefully after this actual interaction and plot development will follow! (As a bit of a side note, I have no idea why I wrote so many "fight scenes" but that's all done now). 
> 
> As with all my stories, this is not edited by anyone outside of myself because I don't have a beta. Sadly.


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